We were wondering what his house would look like as we drove to it. When we pulled up to the drive way we found a modest middle class house. Not huge, but defiantly spacey enough for comfort. We were greeted at the door by Leah, his wife. It ended up being 5 students, both deans and their spouses, the music professor who had prepared a great performance for Father Tutu, and this other dude who worked for semester at sea who I found completely irritating. I won't name any names.

Anyway the 11 of us were greeted warmly and inside we found another group of ten made up of the Tutu's friends. The inside of his house was spectacular as it was lined top to bottom and wall to wall with artwork. They had everything from paintings to prints and statues, all gorgeous. At one point he took us up to his "chapel" or so he calls it. It's a small nook at the top of the stairs were that he has set up for praying. He had a painting of a black Jesus which I thought was genius, and some other artwork he said were gifts. That leads me to believe a lot of the stuff in his house was given to him.   Anyway, besides the loads of artwork it was very modest and comfortable. I saw his living room, dinning room, study and chapel. He had loads of book in his study. We joked afterwards that we should have used his bathroom to check it out, take pictures and steal some toilet paper, but none of us did. We were all very respectful and I don't think anyone actually took any pictures the whole time we were in his house. I kinda noticed he really doesn't like to take pictures. Maybe he's had to pose so much in his life that he's over it or maybe he's just not the picture type, either way even though he does it with a smile I get the feeling inside that he'd prefer not to.
 
So we hung out and talked, had some juice, some wine, some snacks and some laughs in his living room for about an hour. Then the like 20 of us went to a super nice restaurant. And I have to say, because I love food, that I had the most amazing steak! It was really tender and literally melted in your mouth. I'd never understood that expression until then… yes steak can melt. I have to say one other thing because we thought it was absolutely hysterical and adorable only because the Archbishop is such a cutie pie… I watched him down four margaritas and Dean John wasn't far behind. The five us students ordered soda to start but once all the adults were on their second drinks we decided it was time to order a bottle of wine. We ordered some special, yet decently priced South African red wine- we shared ofcourse. It was an amazing evening. How could it not be? We were hanging out with a living legend and a man who has earned all of our respect and admiration. One can only hope to do a 3 rd of what he has done for humanity.
 
I have to make a confession on behalf of all the students, myself included. A lot of us refer to him as Des or Desy. I know its completely disrespectful, and we don't address him in that manner publicly ofcourse, but amongst us he's Desy. I think of it as a term of endearment, as a nickname with love. I guess it's a way for us to bring him in and accept him as one of us, it's a form of inclusion. We were all deeply touched by him. He spent hours talking to us as a group and individually. He's become more than just some amazing leader you learn about and admire from afar. I think most of us feel just a bit closer to him, like we know him alittle better because of the time he spent with us and how much of his wise and playful personality he gave to us.

Had I never spoken to him he would just be Archbishop Desmond Tutu the great leader, but now that I've had a personal experience, now that I've spoken with him and joked with him and shared just alittle of myself, I've developed an affection for him as a person, not just a leader. Now he feels more like Desy, my friend. Probably none of us will ever get the chance to speak with him again and he'll never remember any of our names, but for a short time he was a beloved member of our community, he was someone who made us laugh and think and almost cry and this is what we will always remember when we think of him. To every other person back home he is the Archbishop, to us he is a friend we cherish and so in our silly little way calling him Desy is the most heartfelt way we have of showing our utmost respect and love.